


Winning Love by Daylight

by tasteofsummersnow



Series: In Love with the Salt of You [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (this is definitely a meet cute lol), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Osamu is sleep-deprived and lowkey a dick, Osamu works at a radio station, Shirabu is sleep-deprived and grumpy, Shirabu the newspaper delivery boy, Shirabu why do you recognize all those Sailor Moon openings you nerd?, it's a match made in heaven, some Atsumu-bashing but lovingly, this could have been a meet-cute if Shirabu would stop being a salty dick for like two seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 17:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21256736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteofsummersnow/pseuds/tasteofsummersnow
Summary: Shirabu has never been one to care much about soulmates but he wouldn’t have picked to meet his by making death threats over the phone.Fuck.Before he can think about it, he hangs up.Or: the one where Shirabu and Osamu are soulmates, both need more sleep and bond over making fun of Atsumu.





	Winning Love by Daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Would you look at that, another fic with plot, it's a miracle!
> 
> They don’t know it, but this fic is entirely [Beewachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beewachan/pseuds/Beewachan)’s fault because I read a lot of their OsaShira fics a while back and fell in love with the pairing. If you like this, you should definitely go check out their fics, they're amazing!
> 
> Half of this fic was (very fittingly) written at three am, the other half this afternoon while I was avoiding all of my essays, yay!
> 
> Some blink-and-you-miss-it AtsuKage because I said so, lol
> 
> So, here you go, have some college-aged OsaShira as soulmates, enjoy!!
> 
> (Btw, high five if you know where the title’s from)

It’s 4.30 am and Shirabu Kenjirou hates the world.

He blows on his hands and curses himself for not bringing his gloves. Damnit, Kyoto has no business being this cold in mid-October. Yes, even at 4.30 in the morning. 

He yawns, flexes his fingers in another useless attempt to warm them up, then grabs the handle bar of his newspaper cart again and continues onto the next building.

For this one, he knows by now, on Wednesdays he’ll need the Kyoto newspaper six times, three times the financial newspaper, one English newspaper and four of those awful gossip rags.

By the time he is done stuffing everything in the according letterboxes, he decides to check his earbuds again. 

Bad idea. It’s still a Sailor Moon opening. Possibly the only thing that could ever make his current situation – having to distribute newspapers at ass-o’clock in the morning in the freezing cold – any worse: the sort of music that Tendou-san likes to sing for karaoke.

There is obviously a very simple solution to Shirabu’s problem. He could just stop listening to the University radio station and instead switch to one of the playlists he has on his phone, or YouTube, or literally anything that isn’t a fucking Sailor Moon opening. 

But Shirabu is a creature of habit and normally at this hour, the radio just loops one of Kai-san’s playlists, which Shirabu genuinely enjoys. Emphasis on normally, because today some idiot has hijacked the radio station and insists on playing Sailor Moon openings. On repeat. At 4.30 in the morning.

It’s enough to put Shirabu in a bad mood. Well, a worse mood than he was already in because he had to get up at fucking 3.30 in the morning to deliver newspapers. Who even reads them anymore? Have they never heard of online newspaper? It’s better for the fucking environment _and_ Shirabu’s sleep schedule.

Rationally, Shirabu knows that it’s his own fault. 

He could have gotten a full scholarship to his university if he had put more work in. Instead, he had decided to concentrate on leading his volleyball team to the Inter High and Spring High, only one of which he actually achieved. His parents had been disappointed – nowhere near as much as Shirabu himself, of course, when they lost to fucking Datekou in the semifinals of the Inter High qualifiers – and thus had decided that he needed to work a job next to his studies to pay for half of the expenses himself.

Now, Shirabu could have just looked for a normal part time job with hours that didn’t make him get up in the middle of the night. But that would have meant giving up competitive volleyball and Shirabu was not having it.

So instead, he got up at 3.30 in the morning, delivered newspapers until 6, then he went back home to get some more sleep or coffee, depending on when his first class was. After classes, there was volleyball practice to attend and then homework. Or, as his teammate Atsumu would put it: “You have no life, Ken-chan.” 

Atsumu may be right about that but he is also the bane of Shirabu’s existence and defending champion of the “asshole of the year” award, and he once walked into a lamppost because his soulmate, Kageyama, smiled at him, so Shirabu is definitely not taking life advice from him.

Sure, he may be pushing a newspaper cart through Kyoto’s suburbs in the middle of the night. And sure, he may be freezing his ass off. And sure, he doesn’t have a soulmate yet who will smile at him and make him walk into lampposts. And sure, he is still listening to fucking Sailor Moon songs. But…

Wait, what?

Is that fucking radio guy serious? Again? 

Shirabu takes a deep breath. Then another. And another. But alas, this technique, which used to work when dealing with Goshiki and later the new first-years, fails him. Defeated by Sailor Moon.

Shirabu pulls out his phone and looks for a playlist that is as far from shoujo anime as possible, when the song on the radio ends.

“Sure hope you liked that one, all of ya zero people listening to this. Guess what? There’s more to come”, the radio guy announces in a lazy voice, void of any emotions.

For some reason, that’s what flips the switch for Shirabu. How dare this guy make him suffer when he doesn’t seem to get any enjoyment out of the music either?

It takes Shirabu a minute to find the phone number of the University radio station. A minute filled with – you guessed – Sailor Moon music over his earphones.

He punches the number in and hits dial without thinking about it twice. Even the fucking dial tone is a welcome replacement for the music.

It takes a couple of seconds for the guy at the radio station to pick up the phone, but when he does, Shirabu doesn’t waste a second before he hisses: “I swear, if you play one more Sailor Moon opening, I will personally come find you and I will _end_ you.”

The other end of the line is silent and for a moment, Shirabu wonders, if he dialed the wrong number. 

Then: “… Fuck, I can’t believe Chikara was right…” It’s unmistakably the voice of radio-guy, except now he doesn’t sound lazy but taken aback instead.

Shirabu has a good idea why.

His right wrist is burning, right where the words radio-guy just said are etched into his skin.

Fuck. 

Shirabu had never been one to care much about soulmates but he wouldn’t have picked to meet his by making death threats over the phone either. 

Fuck.

Before he can think about it, he hangs up.

_Fuck_.

Shirabu is staring at his phone and wondering what he is supposed to do next.

He just met his soulmate. And threatened to kill him. And hung up on him. Way to make a good first impression.

He is still staring at his phone, when it starts vibrating in his hand.

It’s an unknown number and it’s not the radio station’s either but Shirabu doesn’t usually get phone calls at 4.30 in the morning.

He picks up. “Hello”, he says hesitantly.

“You must really not like Sailor Moon”, radio-guy says, sounding vaguely amused.

Great, so Shirabu’s soulmate is an asshole. If Semi-san ever finds out, he will get a good laugh out of this.

It takes some restraint, but Shirabu manages to not issue another death threat. Just barely.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a ten-year-old girl”, he grumbles instead.

“Me neither, but I dunno, it’s kinda catchy, don’t ya think?”, radio-guy says with a yawn.

Then, he starts humming the opening that was playing when Shirabu first called.

Shirabu feels his fingers twitch. “I am not above hanging up on you again.” 

It’s a bluff. He’s talking to his soulmate and even though the guy is kind of a dick, Shirabu would like to get to know him. Shirabu knows enough matched pairs to believe that there must be a reason why the universe thinks they’re right for each other.

“‘kay, ‘kay, please don’t, I promise, I’ll behave”, there’s a chuckle on the other side of the line. It’s a nice sound, Shirabu decides. So far, that’s all his soulmate has going for him.

“I doubt that”, Shirabu huffs before he can stop himself.

“Really? Why?” From what Shirabu can tell, radio-guy sounds more curious than insulted.

“You broke into the radio station and hijacked it, for one.”

Radio guy laughs. “Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t break in. I work at the station in the evening from six till eight, so I have a key.”

“And you just randomly decided to get up at four in the morning and annoy all of Kyoto with Sailor Moon openings?”, Shirabu asks flatly. Just what kind of person is this guy.

“Nah, not really. Insomnia’s being a bitch right now and I didn’t want to bother my roommate, so I went to the station instead. Playing Sailor Moon all night was a friend’s idea. I’m just surprised it actually worked the first time. Especially since it’s, like, 4.45 am. Speaking of which, whatcha doing up at this hour of the night, soulmate-chan?”, radio guy asks with another yawn.

Shirabu curses. Right, there’s a reason why he’s up at ass-o’clock in the morning. He is supposed to be working. And if he doesn’t finish by six, his boss will have his head.

“I’m working. Delivering newspapers”, he explains. “And I really, really should get back to that…”, he adds reluctantly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep ya. Tell ya what? If ya want, we could meet up once you’re done? Get breakfast or something?”

“I’d like that”, Shirabu says, maybe a bit too quickly. Great, now his soulmate will think, he’s some overly enthusiastic idiot, like Goshiki. 

“Nice! … So, uh… say, since you’re listening to this station, are ya anywhere near the University?”

“Close enough, yes.”

“If it’s all right with ya, ya could come to the radio studio once you’re done, how about it? It’s on the new campus in the Media & Communication building. Room 452.”

Two of Shirabu’s classes in the past semester were in that building, so at least, he’ll know where to go.

“Yeah, sure, I should manage to be there by 6.15, I think”, he offers. He has a class at eight, so he actually should go back to his room, take a shower and get ready for the day, but Shirabu hates ‘Intermediate Macroeconomics’, so it’s not a hard choice to make. 

He’s going to meet his soulmate. In less than two hours. Shirabu’s stomach does a weird little twist. 

Fuck, this is exhilarating. 

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

The silence stretches.

Fuck, this is awkward.

“So, any music wishes?”, radio guy asks. Shirabu thinks he can hear the mischief in his voice.

“If you play even one more Sailor Moon opening, I’m not coming”, he deadpans.

There’s a laugh from the other end of the line. “Aye, aye Captain.”

Shirabu hangs up with a smile.

He really is going to meet his soulmate.

But only if he manages to deliver all the newspapers before six. Otherwise he will be murdered in cold blood by his boss.

Shirabu starts pushing his cart again, humming along to the song that is playing on the radio. It’s definitely not Sailor Moon.

Once the song is over, radio guy (Shirabu really should have asked for his name) announces: “Due to a request, we won’t be playing any more Sailor Moon songs, sorry folks. But I’m sure, you’ll like what’s next.”

Dread washes over Shirabu as he listens to the first few notes of the Pokémon opening.

His soulmate really is a dick.

Thankfully, the song stops after fifteen seconds or so. “Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t resist. Please don’t be mad, yeah? I’ll play the usual stuff now, promise.”

Shirabu would never admit it, but he huffs out a laugh. 

As promised, the radio guy starts Kai-san’s playlist instead. He interrupts it only once, a little past five, to say: “Imma take a nap now. Feel free to wake me when ya come by.”

Shirabu finds himself working much quicker than usual, and even with the delay, he finishes his route ten minutes earlier then normally. He puts away the cart, makes the phone call to let his boss know that he’s done and then makes his way to university.

By the time Shirabu stands in front of the Media & Communication’s building, it’s ten past six and his hands are all sweaty. For a moment, he wonders if he should call Taichi for a pep talk, but Taichi doesn’t get up before ten, ever, and if Shirabu wakes him up now, he’ll owe him Sukiyaki for the next year or so.

Instead, Shirabu takes a deep breath and opens the door.

As he makes his way to the fourth floor, he tells himself that everything will be fine.

He starts looking for room 452. 

He finds it at the end of a corridor. There’s a big “ON AIR” sign over the door, but it’s not on, so Shirabu decides that it’s safe to knock and walk in.

Or it would be, if he wasn’t so fucking nervous.

Fuck.

This right here is important. 

And Shirabu is standing here, sleep-deprived, in sweatpants, his hair messed up by the wind. 

Fuck. He hasn’t thought this through.

He should have gone home first. Take a shower, put on some nice, clean clothes, have a coffee or two, brush his teeth, and make sure his hair isn’t a mess.

But he promised to be here by 6.15. It’s too late to back out now.

He pulls out his phone, puts it on selfie mode and straightens up his hair. That will have to do.

With another deep breath, Shirabu knocks at the door and walks in.

The studio is, mildly put, a mess. It’s overflowing with books, loose paper and a ton of weird-ass shit.

But Shirabu doesn’t stop to focus on that, instead, he takes in the two people in the room. 

There is one guy, sleeping on the couch. He’s facing the backrest and buried under a quilt, so all Shirabu really sees of him is the mop of silver hair over a dark undercut.

The other guy sits at one of the desks and is looking at Shirabu confusedly. “Sorry, this is the radio studio, I think you might have the wrong… wait, Shirabu-san?”, he says.

Shirabu does not know this guy. How the hell does he know Shirabu’s name? And how is Shirabu going to explain this situation?

The guy must have read the confusion on Shirabu’s face, because he introduces himself: “I’m Ennoshita Chikara. I was Karasuno’s Captain during our third year. We played each other in the finals and you won and went to the Spring High Tournament.”

It takes a while, but finally, Shirabu manages to place him. “Uh, right... Nice to see you again, Ennoshita-san”, he offers.

“Likewise. But … not to be rude, but what exactly are you doing here …?”

Shirabu winces, his gaze flickering over to the sleeping guy. Who was probably his soulmate.

“Uh…”, he begins.

“No way…” Ennoshita-san gapes at him. “Don’t tell me you’re Osamu’s soulmate?”

“I guess so…”

Ennoshita-san laughs, delighted. He jumps up, walks over to the couch and shakes the sleeping guy’s shoulder. “Oi, Osamu, wake up. You owe me dinner!” 

Osamu grumbles and bats Ennoshita-san’s hand away, but Ennoshita-san is unimpressed. “Wake up, dude, your soulmate is here.”

That gets Osamu to turn around and sit up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and blinks at Shirabu. “Huh, you’re cute”, he says, his voice gravelly from sleep.

Shirabu doesn’t blush at that but only because he’s too horrified to be embarrassed. 

This... This is Miya Atsumu’s face.

_Fuck_ no.

Shirabu isn’t sure, what kind of expression he is making, but Ennoshita-san starts laughing and Osamu groans.

“Let me guess: Ya know my brother.”

“If you mean the bane of my existence, then yes. We play volleyball together. I… I’ve heard a lot about you…”

Osamu curses softly, and Ennoshita-san is still laughing. Shirabu walks over to the desk and sits down on the chair. 

Fuck.

Osamu sighs. “Look, uh…”

“Shirabu. Shirabu Kenjirou”, he offers.

“Look, Kenjirou-kun, whatever my brother told you, don’t believe him. He’s a lying liar who lies. I promise, I’m the nice twin!”

Shirabu raises an eyebrow, especially when Ennoshita-san scoffs: “Yeah, right.”

“Well, at least you’re not calling me Ken-chan…”

Fucking hell. Shirabu wishes desperately for a moment to think about all this.

His soulmate is Miya Osamu. _The_ Miya Osamu. National level wing spiker, apparently insomniac, probably Media and Communication’s student and also the twin brother of the most annoying person Shirabu has ever met.

Osamu looks at him with a curious expression on his face. “Wait, are you… are you the Ken-chan who told ‘tsumu that his only redeemable feature was his face?”

Shirabu has to hold back a groan. That was two weeks ago, when Atsumu was so insufferable that Shirabu all but exploded. “Maybe…?”

Suddenly, Osamu has a huge, boyish grin on his face. It’s very different from Atsumu’s smirks. If Shirabu is honest, it’s pretty cute.

“I have a feeling that you and I will get along really well, Kenjirou-kun”, Osamu declares.

They go get breakfast.

Shirabu has coffee, and a soulmate who is witty and at least as sarcastic as Shirabu himself, and has a really nice, lazy smile.

It’s 6.45 and Shirabu Kenjirou hates the world a little less.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so please feel free to point out any mistakes! 
> 
> Also, pro-tip: I did the whole newspaper delivery thing and it was HELL. 0/10 would not recommend.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day!
> 
> Thanks for reading~


End file.
